


fell in love with the fire long ago

by BananasofThorns



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hands, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Control, Pre-Relationship, fjord's ring of fire resistance, it's always about the hands, very briefly tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26465266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananasofThorns/pseuds/BananasofThorns
Summary: “I have a really stupid idea,” Fjord gasps.Caduceus chuckles wryly. “I think any idea is a good one, at this point.”“That’s fair.”Fjord swallows and turns back to the battlefield, gauging the distance between himself and Caleb. It only takes a breath for him to slip into the ether and reappear at Caleb's side. The wizard spins, burnished copper hair whipping around his face. Surprise flashes across his expression before the blank, detached mask slams back down.“That was a very foolish idea,” he says. His voice is eerily flat.
Relationships: Fjord & Caleb Widogast, Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 7
Kudos: 230





	1. Chapter 1

The force of Caleb’s fireball flings Beau into the air and sends her tumbling to the ground ten feet from Ikithon. Almost before she hits the dirt, she pushes herself up and runs back into the fray, her staff a blur of silver-brown motion in her hands. Yasha takes the full blast of the fireball with gritted teeth; she stands her ground, but Fjord can see the burns painting their way up her side and back. 

He curses, looking around desperately for something to break whatever hold Ikithon has over Caleb. It isn’t like the tunnels beneath Xhorhas, where damage broke the charm; they tried it and it did nothing, except maybe make Caleb more dangerous.

As expected, there’s nothing of use. Fjord glances down at himself, vision catching on the brass glint on his hand as he shifts his grip on the Star Razor. The beginnings of a plan start to form - it’s probably an incredibly stupid idea, but it’s better than nothing. Fjord fires off three eldritch blasts at Ikithon before he turns and runs towards Caduceus.

The firbolg is looking rough; Caleb had targeted the healers before Beau and Yasha became bigger problems. Fjord has no idea where exactly Jester is, but her spiritual weapon still floats above Ikithon’s head, a reassuring beacon of hot pink. Caduceus, leaning heavily on his staff, spares Fjord a glance out of the corner of his eye. Divine energy flashes from his hands; a few of Fjord’s wounds close up and across the battlefield, that same minty light flickers around Beau and Yasha.

“I have a really stupid idea,” Fjord gasps.

Caduceus chuckles wryly. “I think any idea is a good one, at this point.”

“That’s fair.” Fjord swallows and catches Caduceus’s eye. “Make sure they’re safe.”

He doesn’t mean for it to sound so final, but he truly has no idea if his plan will work. Caduceus, out of all of them, knows that they won’t always all make it out okay. Fjord hopes that today isn’t that day, but— 

“Caleb especially,” he adds. “I—”

Caduceus nods; Fjord looks away from the solemn darkness in his eyes. “I understand. Do what you have to do, Fjord. We’ll be here to pick up the pieces.”

“Thank you.”

Fjord returns his attention to the fight. He lingers on Beau and Yasha for a moment, then glances up at Jester’s razor-sharp, radiant lollipop. A crossbow bolt sparking with electricity shoots from somewhere in the smoke-blanketed battlefield and slams into Ikithon’s thigh, though he barely stumbles. Fjord can’t see Veth anywhere, but the fact that she’s still fighting is reassuring.

He looks to Caleb last, gauging the smoky battlefield between them. It only takes a few steps to lessen the distance to thirty feet. Another fireball is building in Caleb’s hands when Fjord Misty Steps and slips into the ether. He reappears at Caleb’s side. The wizard spins, burnished copper hair whipping around his face. Surprise flashes across his expression before the blank, detached mask slams back down. The fireball dissipates.

“Caleb—”

“That was a very foolish idea,” Caleb interrupts. His voice is eerily flat.

Fjord tries to grin and mostly fails. “Those are kind of my thing.” He raises his hands placatingly, allowing the Star Razor to slip through his fingers and turn to sea spray. “Caleb, listen to me, I know you’re in there. This isn’t you, I—”

Caleb’s eyes harden and flash. “You do not know what you are talking about.”

He begins to cast another spell, magic sparking to life on his fingertips. With a silent prayer to the Wildmother, Fjord steps forward and grabs his wrists. They’re burning hot, concerningly so, and Caleb only stutters for a moment before continuing his incantation. He tries to jerk himself free from Fjord’s grasp, but when that fails, he simply chuckles; it’s a haunting, empty sound, and Fjord can’t help the shudder that races up his spine.

A smile splits Caleb’s face. “It is your demise, then.”

He twists his wrists in Fjord’s grip and slams his palms into Fjord’s chest. Even through his armor, Fjord can feel the heat of Caleb’s skin. Despite the fact that he knows it’s coming, the flames that burst from Caleb’s palms are excruciating _,_ their heat scalding through his chestplate _._ Fjord does his best to bite down his scream, clenching his jaw so tight that he tastes blood. The ring on his finger flares, briefly growing as hot as and then hotter than the flames themselves. After a few seconds, the garnet flashes red-gold and the fire dies. The pain lessens.

Caleb snarls under his breath. His eyes are glazed over but burning and startlingly blue when he glares up at Fjord, nostrils flaring.

“You are simply prolonging your pain. That ring,” he spits it like a curse, “can only do so much for you, and I can assure you that my magic will long outlast it.”

“Caleb,” Fjord tries again, swallowing down his own blood. “Listen to me. I know you’re in there, this isn’t you! Ikithon is controlling you, you need to fight him. I _know_ this isn’t you; you are a good man, do you hear me? You are so much more than whatever he tries to get you to be.”

Carefully, he shifts his grip and slides their hands together: cut palm to cut palm. Caleb inhales sharply, though whether it’s from fury or something else, Fjord can’t tell. The flames begin to lick at his hands. 

“ _Please._ ”

He whispers the word like a prayer, though whom it is for, he has no idea. Around them, the sounds of the battle go silent. 

Caleb shudders, all the rigidness suddenly bleeding out of his posture. He squeezes his eyes shut, though it doesn’t stop the tears from streaking down his cheeks. Fjord loosens his grip slightly, wincing. He hardly dares to breathe.

When Caleb looks up, his eyes are horrified and clear, electric blue.

“Fjord—?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing Bren was really fun. sometimes u just have to write moral-less characters and that's okay


	2. Chapter 2

The moment they return to the Xhorhaus, Caleb shuts himself in the library. Fjord watches him go, ignoring the lingering taste of blood in his mouth. Caleb hasn’t spoken since Ikithon’s charm spell broke, but he’d seen the body before Beau and Yasha could destroy it and the pained, choked-off noise he’d made will haunt Fjord’s nightmares forever.

“Fjord! You’re still hurt, why didn’t you say anything?”

Fjord blinks down at Jester, then winces as she grabs his hands. The burns, though not as bad as they could’ve been without the ring, are angry and blistered, but Jester’s cool skin soothes them slightly even before she starts to cast. The hot pink, radiant energy is weaker than usual, a tell-tale sign of her exhaustion from the battle, but it does its job. The burns fade to pale scars that warp the skin of Fjord’s palms. He flexes his fingers, nodding when the pain is nothing more than a slight ache.

“Thank you, Jester,” he says.

She nods absently, pasting a smile on her face. “Of course! I am pretty much tapped out for today, but let me know if you need any more healing tomorrow.”

When Fjord follows her gaze, he finds her staring at the two dark handprints burned onto his armor. 

As if sensing him watching, Jester says, “That was a really stupid idea, you know.” She chuckles; Fjord knows her well enough by now that he sees through it easily. “I guess it’s a good thing you bought that fire resistance ring, huh?”

Fjord huffs, wry. “I knew it’d come in handy,” he agrees, lips curling against the bitterness the words bring. “I’m gonna go change, make sure I don’t have any other injuries that need attention.”

Jester nods, still worrying at her bottom lip. 

Softer, Fjord adds, “You did good today.”

“I know. That could have gone a lot worse.” She snorts. “It also could have  _ way _ better.”

Fjord hums, “Yeah,” and walks away.

He doesn’t get far. Beau catches his arm and pulls him aside before he can make it to the stairs, her face hard. Her nails dig briefly into his bicep before she backs away.

“That was a dumb fucking idea,” she says, crossing her arms. Fjord has a good six inches on her, but he cowers under the weight of her glare. “I mean, you’ve had some pretty stupid ideas, but that was  _ really _ fucking stupid.”

“He was going to kill us,” Fjord defends, hating himself even as he says it. Beau flinches. “He was, because Ikithon had him charmed to do everything in his power to hurt us and keep Ikithon safe. I was the only one that could survive close-quarters with him long enough to attempt to break the spell.”

Fjord raises the hand with the ring and wiggles his fingers for emphasis. Beau purses her lips, glare slipping from Fjord’s face to his chest. He resists the urge to cross his arms.

“...fine,” she finally says, her anger only slightly diminished. “I guess that’s a good point.” When she looks up, her eyes are hard, but it isn’t enough to mask her pain. She jabs Fjord’s chest with her finger, between the two burned handprints. “Still doesn’t mean you should’ve done it.”

“Maybe so,” Fjord agrees, not actually meaning it at all.

Beau huffs, staring at him for a moment longer before she turns and stalks up the stairs. He waits for a moment before following, left hand already working at the clasps of his armor. Absently, he rubs his thumb along the old scar bisecting his other palm.

+++

Caleb avoids all of them except for Veth and Beau for days before Fjord gives up on waiting him out and marches down to the library. His wounds have healed by now; the only indications of the burns are the slight, warped scars marring his palms and chest. Jester and Caduceus have both apologized for not being able to do more, but Fjord oddly doesn’t mind. 

Waiting in front of the library door, he twists the ring around and around on his finger as he builds up the courage to knock.  _ You’re being stupid _ , he tells himself. There’s no reason to be nervous; it’s just Caleb. Shaking his head, he forces himself to stop fidgeting and raps his knuckles lightly on the door.

The following silence is long enough that Fjord almost gives up and leaves. He’s about to turn around when the door opens to reveal Caleb, disheveled and looking like he hasn’t slept since the battle. He blinks up at Fjord, face blank, before his lips twist into a bitter imitation of a smile.

“Ah, Fjord. I was wondering when you would stop by.” The words would be casual if not for their undercurrent of darkness.

Caleb turns, leaving the door open behind him. Fjord follows a second later; he hesitates for a moment before closing the door softly. When he looks up, Caleb is seated on the edge of one of the couches, back ramrod straight. His eyes are fixed firmly on the floor.

“Caleb—”

“I am sorry.” Caleb cuts Fjord off in a rush, toying with a loose thread on his sleeve. “I am sorry, and I—”

Fjord frowns. “What?”

Caleb clenches his teeth on the rest of his sentence, blinking up at Fjord. He looks away before they can make eye contact. Fjord steps further into the room, stopping a few feet away from the couch to give Caleb space.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Caleb,” he says softly.

Caleb looks up sharply, eyes flashing before he visibly reels himself in. “I  _ burned  _ you. I could have killed you. I  _ would have _ killed you.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Fjord argues. Caleb scoffs.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

Fjord slides the ring off his finger and steps forward, close enough that he can drop it into Caleb’s lap. It almost bounces off Caleb’s leg, but he fumbles for it before it can hit the ground. Fjord waits, trying not to crowd Caleb as he inspects the ring, running his finger over the runes. He taps at the garnet a few times with his fingernail and looks up at Fjord, expression full of too many things for Fjord to understand.

“Fire resistance,” he says. Not a question.

“Yeah.”

“You.... I—”

“I got it weeks ago,” Fjord says, “in Nicodranas. Right after we returned from Rumblecusp.”

Caleb nods slowly. “Ja, I remember; at the time, you were not sure if it was the smartest purchase.” He chuckles, wry. “I bet you are not regretting it now.”

He holds the ring up to Fjord, who takes it and slides it back onto his finger. It looks oddly at home there, now.

“It was certainly useful,” Fjord agrees. He’s about to say more when Caleb catches his wrist with surprisingly cool fingers.

Fjord holds very carefully still as Caleb studies his hand, thumb absently brushing the base of his palm where the faint burn scars start to fade into smooth, undamaged skin. He stares for a long time, long enough that Fjord has started to get almost uncomfortable, before he looks up at Fjord’s chest. His eyes are distant, like what he’s seeing isn’t really the loose cotton of Fjord’s shirt. He doesn’t let go of Fjord’s wrist, but his free hand rises to hover above Fjord’s chest where the burns had been.

“Caleb?” Fjord asks softly, afraid to break the sudden tension in the air.

Caleb drops his hand. “This was my fault,” he says, tapping Fjord’s palm. His finger brushes the pact scar. “I hurt you. Why don’t you— why aren’t you angry at me? I betrayed you, Fjord! I betrayed the Mighty Nein, our  _ family _ — I could have  _ killed you. _ I broke your trust.”

“You didn’t, though,” Fjord argues gently, kneeling onto the floor in front of Caleb. “Caleb, look at me. It wasn’t your fault. Ikithon—” Caleb shudders; internally, Fjord winces. “—got in your head. He was controlling you.”

“I should have been able to resist it. I should have— I should have fought it.”

“We all should have prepared better, but listen to me, Caleb, okay?” Fjord tilts his head to make eye contact and gently places his hands on the sides of Caleb’s face so he can’t look away. “What happened was not your fault. We knew what we were getting into.”

Caleb squeezes his eyes shut. “I  _ hurt you _ .”

“You didn’t. Maybe it was your body, but Ikithon was the one in control. You are not the one I blame.”

Caleb is silent for a long moment. Finally, quiet enough that Fjord has to strain to hear it, he says, “It felt good. Almost. To be in control of the flames like that again.” He presses his hands to Fjord’s chest in an echo of the battle. “I am sorry.”

Fjord brushes his fingers through Caleb’s tangled hair and gently pulls him forward until their foreheads are resting together.

“I know. You don’t need to be, but I know.”


End file.
